red sky at night
by orange crush
Summary: Say it's true. Say you're gone. Who's gonna hold me back ? Who's gonna stop me ? Please... please stop me. (Endgame for the speculative season big bad.)


Her hair fell across her face, two red strands, catching the light and reflecting it back. As suddenly as they'd fallen, they were swept back again, as if by an invisible hand.

A chill went up his back.

"Muscles in your arms'll atrophy, doing that." he said, keeping his eyes on her. She turned up the side of her mouth. 

"Probably not." The palms of her hands turned up, and they were glowing white. "Catch." she said, smiling, and he dove just in time. A hole roughly his size appeared in the wall. Facedown in the dust, he considered just playing dead. Playing dead. Interesting phrase. He almost chuckled.

And then he was on his feet again, across the room, one hand around her throat even though it hurt worse than fuck, and he was wrenching an arm behind her back, and for a second she was blacking out, she was slipping, and then- and then a heat worse than one he'd ever known threw him off, onto the ground. Facedown again, he thought.

"Not fair, Red."

"Not fair ?" she snorted. "Don't get me started." this piqued his interest, and he looked up in time to see her eyes turn green again, then black. "Besides... you're faster these days, you know that ?"

"Been practicing." he sat up slowly, still looking at her. "Red, can we talk ?" She waited a moment, and then actually laughed.

"Sure."

"You think she'd like this ?"

Willow doubled over, like she'd been hit.

"Fuck you."

"No, I'm serious. You think this is what Tara wanted for you ?"

"I think it's too late for me to be anything else." she replied coldly, and Spike found himself being lifted from the floor. "I think it's just too late."

"Not." he managed to squeeze out, through the vise of her power. "It's not."

"Oh ?" she dropped him. "Right. They want me back. They want their-" she paused, and twisted the side of her mouth up into the worst parody of a smile he'd ever seen. "They want their _friend _back. Their little geek. Their little... goody-two-shoes. What the _fuck _did that ever get me ?!" Spike watched in horror as a cloud, thin as smoke, began a climb from around her ankles. "Nothing ! It got me _nothing_ ! It got me broken heart after broken fucking heart ! Nothing ! I'm done with it !" her eyes glittered. "I'm done with you."

He had the presence of mind to grab a piece of wood on his way up, through the air, and across the room, to where she was hurling him. It wasn't a particularly large piece of wood, but it was enough. The great irony of the situation was, had he never gotten a chip in his head, and therefore been unable to bite her, but instead able to hunt his own kind; he would have never learned the usefulness of a length of wood when dealing with an enemy.

There was a second when she could have moved, but she stayed there. She was waiting for it.

"I'm sorry." he said, when the ringing in his ears calmed down. "Really I am."

"Yeah." she smiled, and coughed up a little blood. "It's okay."

They sat there like that for a while, him looking at her, her looking up, out the window, at the sky.

"What do you want me to tell them ?"

"Huh ?"

"I could... I could tell them something, if you want." It occurred to her that perhaps he meant more than he was saying. Was this a chance to pass on her final words... or to alter what had happened here ? "Like, maybe... how it wasn't you, just before the end." he added, clearing up any doubt.

"Nah." she said, with some effort. "You can tell them I'm sorry."

"I will." He held onto her hand. She felt suddenly, ridiculously lucky to have someone next to her while she was dying. If only it could have been... if only, instead of Spike, it had been... "She's here, you know." he added. Willow smiled back at him, and her eyes were clear.

"Yeah." she murmured. "Thanks."

There was a space there, and she shut her eyes, and he was afraid for a second that she was already dead. He found himself taking in a breath. "The real bitch is..." she said suddenly, and he exhaled. "...that you had to do it."

"Right you are, Red." Spike imagined his welcome when he returned to the heavily armored Casa Summers. _Did you do it _? they'll ask. More afraid of him, of his answer, than they could have ever been of the tiny redhead. _Is she dead _? And in every one of those questions, they'll really be asking- _did you save her, Spike _? And what other answer can I give ? Any answer other than 'yes', and it won't be enough.

I'll never touch her again. I just killed her best friend in the world. To save her, of course, again, like always. But it isn't enough.

"Buffy loves you."

"She loved you more." he countered. "But just... just rest. Think about... think about Heaven, I guess. Think about her." Spike gave her palm another squeeze.

"Okay." she said, and closed her eyes. 


End file.
